


Interruptions

by uhmelle



Category: Professional Wrestling, kenny omega - Fandom, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhmelle/pseuds/uhmelle
Summary: The game of interruptions: Anywhere, anytime, your partner can choose to stimulate you in the fashion of their choosing. If you stop what you’re doing or acknowledge it at all, you lose.





	Interruptions

“Goddamnit,” you mumbled under your breath. Fingers didn't seem to want to navigate to the right buttons on the controller. Your character was being pummeled, every jerky command only blocked by your obviously more skilled, less distracted opponent.  


“Fucking fucker, piece of-” You swallowed hard, fighting back the noise that begged to escape your throat. 

Your health bar dwindled faster than your patience and in another second you were dead. KO splashed across the screen. The KO between your legs, however, looked at you smugly. 

But you weren’t giving up. You quickly searched for your next opponent and smashed through the character select screen. Your determination only set to make you angrier, though your legs quivered at Kenny’s tongue treating your clit like a fine wine. Every time he looked up you wanted nothing more than to grab his hair, push his face further, deeper. 

The Guile on screen, however, was not being as kind to your Dahlsim, who you’d apparently picked in your hurried moments before the match. You wouldn’t have a chance even not in throws of ecstasy. It just meant you had to be even more impressive and at least battle through the-

“Fuck.” He filled your unspoken want with two skilled fingers and didn’t even miss a beat.

You fought raw urge to writhe against him. Any acknowledgment was out of the question, an automatic loss. The controller was rumbling in your hands, every hit, every weak attempt at defense as your eyes fought to stay open at every rise of pleasure.

Poor Dhalsim hit the ground for the final time as you cried out. The controller slid from your hands and they were occupied in Kenny’s hair before it even hit the floor. He had won, and you reminded yourself to really show him what you were made of. Next time. When he wasn’t bringing you to your best orgasm in weeks with a smile on his face. 

                                             **~~~~~~~~~~**

“And today we don’t have Kenny, he's back home in Canada.”

“And deservedly, too. He put on-”

“Oh yeah for sure.”

“Hell of a match.”

“ _Hell_ of a match. Congrats, Kenny.”

“Oh well thank you guys!”

A little chorus of greetings came from the other end of Kenny’s facetime call. Filming a bit for an episode with a little creativity, as always. The Jacksons continued the conversation and went on to ask Kenny how he was feeling.

You didn’t care, he was feeling fine, but you were about to feel a whole lot better. You exited your computer chair on hands and knees, slowly making your way over to the couch, strategy the name of the game. It was Interruptions, and boy you were ready. 

“Ya know Matt-” Kenny’s eyes never traveled from the screen. You’d counted on it as you situated yourself at his feet, hands going immediately to his groin. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he realized what was about to happen. His only tell. You shrugged to yourself and leaned down, rubbing your cheek against the crotch of his shorts. He was the one who made the mistake of going commando that day, now only a thin layer of cloth between his member and your victory. 

You made quick work getting him hard as he did his business above. His nerves of steel made you livid. The lucky fuck could do work, even with you teasing his most sensitive parts. You slid his shorts down as far as they would go, fishing out his semi hard cock. It was thick and warm in your hand and you couldn’t say you only enjoyed the victory when it came to this game. 

You wiggled your tongue against the sensitive underside of his cock. 

“Cause I-I y'uh,” Kenny sputtered, clearing his throat to mask the reaction.

You smiled, letting him sit in your hand a second, then, without warning, taking the length of him into your mouth. 

“I’m no-” His voice cracked, getting about an octave higher than his casual tone. He recovered quickly and asked Matt to repeat what he said. But the sound only fueled you. 

You pulled no punches. Sucking, kissing, taking his balls into your mouth, tricks and spins and death defying acts, even snaking a finger to press against his asshole. The last peppering another crack into his voice that the Bucks were now imitating for their own amusement. 

He was close, red spreading along his neck, the micro-movements of his hips signaling a great effort to keep them from thrusting up and helping along the ending he desired. The thought dawned on you, as filthy as the situation, as awkward and weird, he might actually pull this off and steal the win. You could not let that happen. 

“Alright squeaky, last one then I think we’re done. Right?”

“Yup.” Kenny was tight lipped in between segments. 

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just, yeah, just think I’m getting a cold or something. Tickle in my-” You wrapped your hand around the unoccupied base of his cock where your mouth had reached its max capacity. “…throat.”

“Try some lemon tea, little bit of honey. Clears me right up.”

Please Matt, do go on. His taste was wonderful in your mouth, like him and justice, and you knew by even twitch of his thigh muscles. 

“Yeah I’ll try that, if we can just finish this, Matt.”

“Alright, that’s, do you start or do I?”

It was now or never. 

“It’s not-”

“Alright we’ll just have Kenny-”

You readied yourself and took all of him in a single swallow, reaching out your tongue to the best of its ability to wet his tight sack in a last ditch effort. 

“Oh Fuck!” His curse only coming out in a breathy, unmistakable moan usually reserved just for you. 

A silence on the other end as you pulled back, wiping the spittle from your lips with the back of your hand. 1-1.

“Kenny what the- 

"Uh we can finish this later. Bye.” He’d hung up before the end of his sentence and tossed his phone to the side. His hands went to his face in embarrassment. Served him right.

In all your giddiness, you leaned in to finish the job but Kenny was up and on his feet. 

“No no no no no,” he repeated in a petulant roar, shoving his pants down to get rid of them. “No!” 

Like a caveman in heat, Kenny pulled you from your position on the floor, holding you long ways across the abdomen like he did to so many guys in the ring. His strength evident, only serving to inadvertently wet your underwear as he swung you around and you landed on his shoulder. You yelped and laughed in one fell swoop. 

“Tyson!” you admonished but it was too late, already headed in the direction of the bedroom on a lust train you couldn’t stop. 

“No, that was some dirty shit, Y/N. And you’re gonna pay!” His best villain laugh followed, and something told you the night was going to be fun. 

                                               **~~~~~~~~~~**  
Kenny’s manicured digits pressed on the floor of your pussy, making your walls contract around him. 

The asshole had gotten stealth since your last endeavor. The game bringing out the little shit in his personality and setting him free in the household. You could never know if he was being sweet or getting ready to pounce. But to be fair, he could say the same about you.

Eyeliner was out of the question in this state, already taking you too long normally and of course he had to strike right before you were ready. You skipped it, desperate to ignore the heat at your groin as not to stab yourself in the eye. Again. 

Where you leaned over the counter to get a good look gave Kenny too good of an angle, at this rate you would never last. You were already choking back whimpers as the moments went on.

Your face had to be good enough for now. The rules didn’t specify you couldn’t change to a different, totally non-sexual, but a little mischievous of an activity. Loop holes made for big wins and you smiled as you looked back at him in the mirror. 

“I’m turning around.”

His eyes narrowed but he let you do so, watching like a hawk. Barely giving you enough time to turn before he resumed finger fucking you into oblivion. God, the restart was the best part and you made to smash your hand around behind you to feign searching for a product to power through it. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, your handed gliding along to apply bronzer in the hollows underneath his cheekbones.

“I need to practice.” So innocent, using your fingers again to badly blend it in. Far too dark for his skin tone, he looked almost emaciated. 

He pressed closer, fingers speeding up. Ignore it, ignore it. “Practice?”

Fumbling behind you brought up highlighter, lucky, and eyeliner. You had to ignore his eyes, deep penetrating blue orbs that could make you do whatever he wanted. For all his secret weapons, the one thing he did for sure was underestimate your resolve. 

“It makes perfect.” Your voice was reserved as you tapped your fingers a little harder than needed to make just the right places on his face glow in the light. “So I hear.”

His laugh somehow made it harder than the building orgasm in your belly. Thank god you were allowed to join in, taking the eyeliner and haphazardly etching it along his eyelids one at a time. Jagged lines marked his skin, almost purposefully edged along by Kenny's hand, furious at your sex. 

You were close, so deliciously close and any of the delicate swirls could take you over the edge without real warning. You grabbed the first thing you could find, lipstick, and tried your best to center yourself. He grinned then, no doubt feeling your muscles tighten around his fingers, and you took a long, deep breath before grabbing a handful of his hair.

“Keep your head still.” You gritted your teeth the same time your hand grasped his curls.

Waves crashed against your twitching clit, a constant assault from the perpetrator even as you smashed the bright purple lipstick onto his prominent pout. Your hands, your toes, your legs, you clenched everything against the overwhelming feeling until it, thankfully, by the grace of God, subsided. 

Kenny's chest was warm as you fell against it, game over, trying like hell to correct your breathing. 

“I would kiss you but-” You looked up at the end of his statement to see him shrug. 

A little shot of pride sparked inside of you. You hadn't done all that bad despite your worst efforts, if the look was something you came home with instead of walked out the door in. His lips dark and exaggerated, you fixed the edges with your thumbs and laughed at him. He mumbled a thanks and checked himself out in the mirror.

“Just as I suspected: I look fucking hot.”

                                             **~~~~~~~~~~**

It would've been sweet vengeance to interrupt Kenny during one of his oh-so-serious Street Fighter matches. Skewing his focus and screwing him over the way he'd achieved so effortlessly with you. You'd done well, but he always found ways to one up you, taking you during more physically orientated tasks while yours focused on more mentally demanding ones. 

Unfortunately, that meant risking being surprise throat fucked should a jump scare happen. For a guy with ring awareness and impressive self control, he was easily spooked. It meant that jump scares, of which Resident Evil had a few, were now a hazard to your health. You'd already weighed the options, and so far, you didn't have a sore throat.

Slow had been the name of the game. Taking him apart bit by bit, watching his face strain as he tried hard for accuracy with shots or puzzle solutions. It had to kill him, no hands in your hair, no stopping in the middle just to kiss you, no little noises as he bit his lip hungrily. 

Stay focused. There only had to be so long before he broke, from pleasure or frustration. But it didn't seem to be working, at least not to your liking. His muscles contracted in tell tall signs, the bulk of his cock growing just so before he- 

Bated breathes escaped his nose alone, mouth closed to prevent anything else. You pumped him thoroughly, even mid orgasm and emptying himself into the warmth of your mouth. Even the strongest men turned to dust under a good mouth, and your softie of a boyfriend managed to do it without so much as a blink. 

You swallowed him and looked at the screen. His aim was perfect, character only a little battered. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“Hold on one sec, I’m getting railed by these molded.”

  
                                           **~~~~~~~~~~** _  
_

_Video 11/12_

The hand at your clit moved slow and sure. Dripping, aching, but holding off until the perfect moment. Little fireworks behind your eyes as you teased ever so slightly at the over stimulated underside. 

A solid month of nothing. Something you were more than used to but it didn't make it any less torturous. No touching, moaning, writhing nights, mornings, weekends. No Interruptions, either. Your partner being on the other side of the world would do that. Lucky only for a healthy libido and extensive knowledge of yourself –  and a tidy stash of toys – it didn't mean an entirely dry season. 

Past, cherub haired and cheeked Kenny shook his ass around on the screen, every curl bouncing around just as much as him member in unsupportive blue trunks. It wasn't often you resorted to your secret playlist of exciting-in-a-certain-way matches of his, but you had nothing else to do and a night to fill before the real thing was in front of you in the morning.

A soft moan escaped you, the eventual ending on the precipice. It wasn't _time_ , but you sped up anyways, impatient. Everything on screen only edging you closer. The lack of bulky muscle didn't hinder the illusion; the charisma and agility still oozed off of him and translated right through the tv and into your overwhelmed, under stimulated brain. There, it was right there, a sweet bullet train raising towards-

A bump in the hallway, the specific sound of suitcases and bags being set by the door. Ass on fire like your parents just came home during your house party, the evidence couldn't all be hidden before Kenny came into the room. Your hands out of your underwear at least, but the incriminating pseudo-porn still running in the background. 

Hurried, you pressed yourself against him the second he got through the door way. “Hey!” You kissed him, the wonderful feeling of him sighing against you. “I didn't expect you 'til morning.”

“Decided to surprise you. What've we got here?” You cursed him silently. He'd already seen, snaking around you to come into the room and eye the end of the match.

“Little classic Omega theater?” 

His stupid eyebrows raised at you, the little smirk he had when he thought he'd caught you in something. Your cheeks went hot despite yourself. He looked amazing, albeit tired, and that was not helping the moment. Falling onto the couch like a heavy sack, he grabbed your hand to pull you down onto his lap. You followed, but begged any god that could hear he didn't feel the wetness that had inevitably soaked through your panties. 

“Just turn it off.” You tried to make it seem innocent, change the subject, lord anything.

“No, it's cute! Wrestle Kingdom 11, though? Could you be more obvious?” A cocky chuckle as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back closer against him.

As the moments passed, maybe against your better judgment, you became comfortable.  The entrances, stare down, beginning of the match grapples, all gone, and you thought it's possible he did just want to sit and be with you. Naive in a house made tense by oneupsmanship, but still a short lived thought. 

You jumped, catching his wrist, his fingers halfway into your underwear. 

“Tyson.”

“Sorry, I don’t know any Tyson. But you know what you _can_ say and I’ll stop. If you’re chicken shit.” 

You wanted nothing more than to punch him and jump his bones at the same time. 

The veto could come out of your mouth, plain and simple: one free out that each of you were allowed. Even with his taunting, it all came down to one thing: sex. If you held out and won, an orgasm and a point, held out and lost, an orgasm and eventual sex of crowned winner’s choosing, gave in and used your veto, you were going to end up screwing each other’s brains out anyways. 

You released his hand and set your eyes on the match. It was only 5 minutes in, a long while left to go and a game to be played. 

The way his tights stretched over the rounded meat of his ass always did something to you. Spectacular in and out of clothes, it had a certain jiggle and shape in his tights. It was the only place you had your gaze transfixed as he wasted no time on your clit. His other hand came to cup your breast through your shirt. He was playing dirty and you didn't dare move, your orgasm any one touch away. 

“I saw you,” You froze, his breath on your ear, the stimulation between your legs still strong. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt, you looked so good touching yourself to me.” He chuckled again at his words. “Guess I couldn’t help myself.”  


The waves of your eager and overdue orgasm crashed. The first electric shock to your core before he was leaning into you again. “Now you have to stare at a TV when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

And then, in the final seconds, victory within your grasp, a whimper escaped your lips. “Ty.”

It’s possible you forgot yourself, maybe you were just meant to lose. But you were gone either way, shaking under his skilled hand and clutching at his arm around you as you road it out. Your chest heaved like you’d run a marathon, the shock hitting you like a punch to the chest and even your toes tingled as Kenny pressed small kisses to your neck. 

Rage and exhaustion are an odd combo, and as you immediately turned yourself in Kenny’s arms he caught the brunt of it. “You're such a fucking asshole!”

“You missed me.”

“Like crazy,” you rushed, before joining your lips with his. 


End file.
